


reaching escape velocity

by MrMundy



Series: gravitational singularity [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Lovers to Enemies to Lovers Again, M/M, Moira being The Worst, Overwatch making a comeback, Talon's manipulation of Siebren, not beta read this time sorry, siebren getting to be with his family, ultimately a very happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 10:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/pseuds/MrMundy
Summary: Escape velocity is defined to be the minimum velocity an object must have in order to escape the gravitational field of the earth, that is, escape the earth without ever falling back.-----Talon wasn't about to let Subject Sigma go - not without a fight.





	reaching escape velocity

**Author's Note:**

> part two! 
> 
> here's a little something i drew to go with this.
> 
> https://mister-mundee.tumblr.com/post/187064401962/havent-even-finished-pt-2-of-my-fic-yet-but

_ Present _.

Siebren’s research was going _ so _ well. The tapping of his pen against the board in front of him helped to lull his mind into a working mode where nothing could break his focus short of being forcibly, _ physically _ moved away from his studies. He was in the final stages of creating something that would allow others to harness his gravitic power. All he had to do was allow someone to test it.

Of course, that someone would have to be trustworthy, they'd have to have the coordination to properly handle what he was offering. Too many people in the world would use his work improperly; it was a good thing he knew just who he wanted to hand the device over to.

He floated near his countertop, picking up his little invention - a gauntlet, made to be able to adjust to the wearer. He slid it on over his arm and it clicked and slid into place, fitting like a rather large glove over his hand. He flexed the fingers, picking up a small tool from the countertop to fiddle with one of the screws on the palm, watching the light inside dim down to a deep purple. He knew what it could do, but still, he wanted to see it in action.

At this point, using his power was subconscious - he barely recognized when he was manipulating gravity. Even so, he opened his hand fully and watched as the tool he had been using floated above his palm, spinning slowly. 

As he stared down the gauntlet, the doors to his lab opened with a slow hiss, and from them stepped a fellow scientist, dressed in a sleek labcoat and slacks.

“Ah,” Siebren said, turning, a smile drawn across his face. “Just who I wanted to see. Doctor O’Deorain, I think you’ll be happy to know that I’ve made progress!”

“Progress is good,” Moira said, leaning her hip against the desk Siebren was working at. “Is this the tool you promised us?”

“Yes, the … Well, I haven’t named it, yet. But it should give you proper control over gravity to a limited degree.” Siebren removed the gauntlet, watching the mechanisms shift to accommodate the change. He offered it to Moira, who took it from him with a delicate movement, holding it up to her eyes to see it closer. After deeming it safe, she put it on and flexed her fingers, getting a feel for it.

"How does it work?" She said, holding her hand out to study the look of the gauntlet on her arm.

"Oh, I created a miniature gravitic charge," Siebren explained, reaching for her hand. He made her spread her palm to get a better look at each part of the device. "Essentially, when activated - with different hand gestures - it will react as my own power does. I don't want to get too far into the details, of course, but it should be usable for quite some time before I'll have to provide another charge. If you open your palm toward something, it should grasp it and allow you to manipulate the effect of gravity."

Siebren watched as she considered the information, brows knitted together with intense focus as she attempted to move a pen across his countertop.

After what felt like several minutes, the pen lifted into the air and followed her hand, causing a lopsided grin to spread across her face.

“Doctor De Kuiper, you really outdid yourself here.” She said, laughing.

“Thank you, Doctor O’Deorain. I do hope it will get some good use. If you’d like to take that to do some further testing, I can begin working on something a bit more powerful.”

“I think I will.” Moira said, turning her hand, studying the shining metal. “I have some use for it."

  
  


_ Six Weeks Prior. _

Siebren awoke with a headache. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light of it. Two thirty-seven am.

Turning slightly, he looked over Reinhardt’s sleeping form, curled on his side with the cat curled up as well, tucked against his abdomen. Not wanting to disturb him too much, he leaned over and kissed his temple, brushing the hair from his face, and lifted himself off of the bed.

Reinhardt didn’t wake. He simply smiled, deep in sleep. Siebren couldn’t prevent the lovestruck expression across his face as he turned to leave the room. Unconsciously, he rubbed a hand over the back of his head, feeling the short hair that had begun to grow back after Angela and Baptiste had ( somehow ) healed over the plating he’d needed. Gray in most parts, peppered in with black - somehow, it made him feel better about himself. More human, less of a dangerous being to be locked away.

Siebren sighed, thankful for everything Overwatch had done for him. For everything Reinhardt had done by simply loving him, making him feel as though he _ could _be loved.

He was lucky. So very, very lucky, to have a man like Reinhardt in his life, and friends like Overwatch to support him as he found himself once again. 

The hallway was quiet all the way to the common areas. Once there, he heard one of the screens on, a movie playing with some shootout scene. He peeked over through the common room from his place at the kitchen doorway, seeing the elder Shimada curled up on the couch - man really needed to get a proper sleep schedule. Shaking his head, Siebren went for a bottle of water, opening it and lifting it to his lips just as the lights turned on throughout the halls. He squinted, eyes burning as they adjusted to the light. His headache felt worse.

“Attention: all Overwatch agents.” Athena’s voice rang out through the halls. “Intruders detected nearby. Going into lockdown mode.” 

Eyes wide, Siebren nearly dropped his water bottle, panic filling his body. 

Without another thought, he rushed back toward the bedroom, dodging agents rushing from theirs. He caught up with Reinhardt as the man was pulling a shirt on over his head, his hair sticking up every which way. 

“Siebren,” He said, grabbing him by his shoulders. “I’m going down to the armory to get my shield. Stay with a group, please.” 

Siebren nodded. His head kept hurting. 

“I -- I can try to help,” He said, and was met with Reinhardt shaking his head.

“I don’t want you risking it. Especially if it’s Talon, we don’t know what they’re here for. Please, _ liebe _ , just stay safe. Away from confrontation.” He leaned in, pressed a solid kiss to his lips, whispering his last word against Siebren’s lips. “ _ Please _.”

“...Alright,” Siebren said, finally, pulling himself closer to hug Reinhardt, just for a moment, just tight enough. When he let go, it was with another kiss and a hesitation to part from him - but he had to. He knew he had to.

Reinhardt smiled at him and rushed away. He saw Brigitte meet him at the end of the hall, throwing her hair into a ponytail.

They'd be alright, right?

  


Reinhardt voiced his concerns to Brigitte on their way to the armory, watching other agents grab their weapons. Nothing had been broken into just yet, but everyone was on edge. Brigitte helped him put on his armor in record time and he lifted his hammer into his arms, scowling under his helmet. 

For some reason, he just _ knew _it was Talon attempting to get in. Who else would it be? Who else was opposing Overwatch so desperately as to attempt a full-on attack?

Who else would _ need _to? And why would they even attempt right now, with all of the former members and new personnel lining the halls of Gibraltar? He met with Ana, put on the communicator she handed to him, and focused on listening for any signs of… Well, anything.

The communicator pinged almost immediately, and Genji noted seeing soldiers in red emblems outside and the sound of pounding against a door. Ana directed Reinhardt and his group toward some of the main doors and they split off into pairs, Reinhardt and Tracer taking one of the larger entryways.

And then things fell silent as everyone fell into place. 

Several minutes went by with nothing. Reinhardt adjusted his stance, his armor creaking. 

And then something was hissing in front of the door. Throwing his shield up, Reinhardt yelled over the comm lines and pushed Lena back, alerting Ana and her team. Just as he was several feet from the doorway, an explosion went off and blew the door from its hinges, and several Talon grunts stomped their way in. Lena bolted from his side, pistols ready, and began rounding the soldiers to distract them.

From behind them, Genji swung in, shurikens flying, and Reinhardt was lost in the wave of battle before he knew what was going on.

  


They didn’t see any casualties. At least, not _ yet _. Talon had broken in from several places, streaming in in hordes, but they were all grunts. The Reaper was nowhere to be seen, nor was the Widowmaker or -- if they really were launching an attack on Gibraltar, why wouldn’t they bring their best?

  


He’d thought too soon. Reinhardt shoved his shield against Doomfist’s gauntlet, staggering the man. He and Brigitte shared a look before he charged, but somehow Doomfist disappeared. Reinhardt swore under his breath, swinging his hammer into the ground angrily.

  


The dust settled after an hour. Talon had been fought back, and the teams were meeting in designated areas to get a proper read on the damage. This was one of the times that Reinhardt was glad Winston had gone over emergency measures with everyone.

  
  


“Headcount.” Jack said, lifting his visor from his eyes. His small team and their assigned protectees assembled in front of him and he took a tally in his head, cursing to himself when he counted not one, but _ two _missing faces. His comm beeped in his ear, and moments later Ana and Winston both recounted their team members, giving him a full count. Again, he swore under his breath, and spoke into his comm and to his team at the same time.

“Does anyone have a location on De Kuiper _ or _Baptiste?” He said, and when nobody could confirm their locations, he flipped his visor back over his face, scanning the area for any traces of what could have happened.

“We’re going to cover the upper level,” Ana said in his ear. “Winston has the outer perimeter. Keep searching inside.”

“Will do. We’re going to have to relocate after this. That’s twice Talon has busted into Gibraltar.” Jack hefted his rifle into his arms, motioning for a few of his team members to follow him. The others, he instructed to cover the other direction.

“And this time it seems they got away with something they wanted.” Ana growled, and Jack could picture the anger across her face.

“Does Reinhardt know?” Winston said, hesitant. There was silence from Ana’s side for some time before she piped back in on the main line.

“He does, now.” She said, followed by a heavy sigh. “He’s not taking it well. Let’s hurry it up and see if we can’t find anything.”

  
  


“Now that Overwatch has gotten their dirty paws all over you, it’s going to be a lot harder to get you to cooperate.” Moira said, tapping one long fingernail against her chin as she stared down at Siebren, hands bound behind his back, glaring daggers up at the woman. 

The transport he’d been loaded into seemed to be very, very high security. Soldiers stood at every available position, weapons at the ready. Baptiste was shoved near the side with a very large, very armored, dark skinned man who was grinning down at him. Moira stood herself in front of Siebren, blocking his view of the rest of the transport. He shifted his hands to feel the tension of his bonds, scowling when he realized that it was not unlike the metal rings used on him long ago. Back when he was seen as a threat.

“Harder?” He said, raising a brow at her. Every time he moved, his head pulsed with pain. It had gotten much worse. “More like impossible. This time I know better. You can’t break me again.”

“Can’t we?” She cooed, reaching for him to grab the back of his head. “Look at that, they got rid of all my hard work. Even been letting you grow your hair back out, hm?”

“It’s a lot less dehumanizing, being with Overwatch.” Siebren said, lifting his chin and shaking her hand away from him. His vision blurred for a moment. 

“_ Dehumanizing _ ? Oh, Doctor De Kuiper, you’re not human. You’re a weapon. An _ asset _." She laughed, and it was a sound so sinister that Siebren found himself cringing, shoulders dropping as he ducked his head down.

Baptiste, shoving himself forward, yelled, “You shut your mouth!” only to be thumped in the chest by the larger man beside him. 

“Now, none of that, Baptiste.” Said the man, his tone cheerful, but his body language and expression anything but. He boxed the smaller man in, eyes crinkling with a grin. “You leave him to Moira, got it?”

The transport jerked for a moment, bumping Siebren's head against the wall. As he yelped, Baptiste tried to shove himself forward once again, expression laced with concern. 

"Siebren," he said, watching as the older man raised his eyes to look up at him. "You're going to be okay."

"Of course he will be." Moira said. "We're taking care of him, now."

  
  


_ Present _.

In the dining area with a plate of barely-touched food in front of him, Reinhardt pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, breathing hard through his nose. Weeks it had been since Siebren and Baptiste had gone missing. He missed them both, of course, but the loss of Siebren from his side was taking its toll on him. The first moment he’d known he was gone, he’d torn through Gibraltar with Ana chasing after him, desperate to find any hints of where he could have gone, where was he, _please _find him! 

The most they’d found out was that there had been a small aircraft near the Watchpoint, thanks to Athena’s records. But it didn’t tell them where it _ went _.

“Reinhardt,” came Ana’s voice from beside him. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she sat down beside him at the table, rubbing small circles into his skin. “We’ll find him, old friend.”

“I just feel so…” He took his hands away from his face, staring down at them as he rested them upon the table. He picked at the skin near his fingernails. “Helpless. Like I didn’t do enough.”

“You did everything you could. We all did - and now we'll do everything we can do help him again.”

“But I just let him leave my side, Ana. And now god knows what Talon is going to do to him.”

Ana sighed, closing her eye. 

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. It was a mess. Nobody was expecting it.”

“We should have expected it, I--” He leaned forward, his elbows meeting the table and his forehead resting upon his hands. Shaking his head, Reinhardt swallowed hard before continuing. “I’m so worried. I can’t help it.”

“I know, Reinhardt.” Ana leaned closer to him, her arm wrapping over his shoulder in the best approximation of a hug as she could manage. There were few times that Ana Amari felt helpless, and now, the moment of her best friend being distraught over something she couldn’t fix immediately was somewhere near the top of that list. 

  
  
  


Baptiste wished he could do more for Siebren. The problem was, Talon was keeping both of them closely watched - Mauga was almost always beside Baptiste, making it incredibly difficult to sneak into Siebren’s lab or his quarters. These days, they were keeping Siebren close by, but it wasn’t like the poor man _ knew _that. They fed him some sort of lie that his laboratory was a highly-guarded government facility and that he was being pursued by an organization that wanted his research for evil means.

Oh, if only Siebren knew. 

Every time Baptiste tried to tell him, he brushed it off as though it didn’t matter. Half the time, it felt as though the man was staring straight through him, like he wasn’t seeing everything in front of him. Like Talon was purposely manipulating his senses.

It wouldn’t surprise him if that were the case. And if it was, how was he supposed to break past that? Previously, Siebren had been helped simply because he’d been given time to understand his new power, time to communicate with other people around him and support where he needed it. Here, he had none of those things, not really - Talon still used him without his knowledge, sweeping in when they could tell he was going into a fit of violence, using his power to push their own agenda. 

It had taken months to help Siebren the first time - Baptiste hoped that it would be easier this time around, as he’d already had contact with his family, he had Overwatch to support him and Reinhardt to confide in.

Reinhardt. Baptiste wondered how he was holding up. The man was so protective over Siebren ( he was protective over everyone, but Siebren was special ), he could only imagine the terror he felt knowing his partner was in such danger. 

His thoughts strayed to Angela, as well - they'd both worked so hard with Siebren to help him. He hoped she was doing okay, but he knew her tenacity very well - she probably wouldn't rest properly until she knew the both of them were safe.

Baptiste shook the thoughts from his head, ducking down a hallway to find his way to Siebren’s lab once again. He had a moment away from Mauga, so he figured he’d better act quickly.

  


Another day, more research. Of course, Siebren could be getting more done if there wasn’t an annoying _ pest _in his lab. He tried to avoid making eye contact with the smaller man, but he was so persistent. 

“Are you sure you don’t remember _ anything _?” Baptiste said, leaning across the desk to stare up into Siebren’s eyes. The marks on Siebren's cheekbones were much harsher. Before, the scarring hadn't been very noticable, but now, Baptiste could see the lines following his cheekbones as well as what looked to be small implants near his temples. Siebren simply shook his head, his expression more irritated than anything else.

“I’ve told you. The only time I’ve interacted with Overwatch was when they helped fund my research. Now _ leave _, I’m expecting Doctor O’Deorain any moment, and I don’t want you screwing anything up for me.” Siebren pointed toward the door. Baptiste began to walk away, backwards, hands up.

“I’m going to help you, Siebren.” Baptiste said, his voice laced with desperation. “We both don’t belong here. We belong with Over--”

“It’s Doctor De Kuiper to you, and there’s _ nothing _for you to help me with. Go.”

As Baptiste left the room, Siebren felt his head pound. For some reason, he remembered being with his daughter, with another man at his side, laughing about something between the three of them. They were at dinner and his hand was covered by a much larger one, warm and gentle...

That wasn’t real. 

Of course it wasn’t.

Right?

His head hurt. 

Doctor O’Deorain stepped into the room, clearing his mind --

clearing it _ completely _so he could listen to her and her latest plans, just like he always did.

  
  
  


“We’ve been tracking what we think are Talon’s movements and where they’ve been utilising Siebren’s power,” Ana said, standing in front of a large, floating globe. She turned it with a flick of her hand, scanning the locations pinged. Winston stood nearby, watching her as she worked. Beside the globe’s table was Reinhardt, sitting at eye level with Ana’s hand movements across from her.

“And? What have you found?” Reinhardt said, leaning forward in his seat.

“Something incredibly strange. There have been some reports from two places at nearly the same time, each telling stories about fluctuations in gravity or damage done by a masked individual.” Ana said, tapping one of the locations. A news report was brought up, and the woman on screen showed destruction behind her, a university building with a large boulder smashed through the wall. Another news report from the same day had the same damage on screen, this time a government facility in another country.

“He can’t be in two places at once,” Reinhardt raised his brows. Winston stepped forward, shaking his head.

“No, but they could be using his research and not _ him _. We never get a report on who exactly was there - they’ve never unmasked the person - just that there was damage done. Given the circumstances, I think it's safe to assume that it's Talon, unless some other scientist suddenly discovered how to control gravity.”

“Our best bet,” Ana said, narrowing her gaze at the globe, “Is to predict where they’re going to attack next. They’re being careful, trying not to leave a trail. But, Athena--”

The blue lights near the globe turned on. Athena’s voice carried through the room.

“They are obviously moving toward one goal. With all of the data I’ve been able to find, my best guess is that their next attack will be at Lucheng Interstellar. They may want some of Doctor De Kuiper’s old research - they’ve already attacked a research building and a university in The Hague _ and _several other European laboratories where he held his work. Lucheng is one of the last places his research is held - and a majority of it from his time on the space stations."

“So that’s where we’re going to focus.” Winston said, adjusting his glasses. He locked eyes with Reinhardt. “You’re going. Tonight.”

“How long?” He said, standing, his shoulders set and chest pushed outward. Nobody opposed him.

“Two hours. You’re taking the main Orca in the hangar.” Ana said. “And Reinhardt?”

“Ja?” He turned to meet her gaze. She stared at him, her expression steeled into seriousness.

“Be careful. I know you love him, but we have to take caution. We don’t know what they’ve done to him or if he’s even going to be there.”

“If he is there, I will bring him back home. If he is not,” Reinhardt lifted his chin, mouth drawing into a scowl. “Then I will make them take me to him.”

  
  
  


Lucheng Interstellar was the same as he remembered it. Clean, quiet, and impeccably professional. Siebren was flanked by Moira and a man named Mauga, his vision obscured by a red tinted visor as they stepped in through the main doors of the building from the upper balcony’s aircraft landing area. Behind them, Baptiste followed, his face turned into a sour expression despite Mauga’s cheeriness at having him around. Soldiers kept watch at the doors.

“So, all you have to do is show us where your previous research is held,” Moira explained, taking the lead between the three of them. She seemed to know where they were going, passing by desks with shut-off lamps and models of spacecrafts. “And we’ll snatch it up and be on our way.”

“If the passcodes are still the same,” Siebren said, his voice lacking much of the emotion it usually held, “I should be able to get right into the systems no problem.”

“And if not, Gabriel gave me one of these.” She produced a black flashdrive from her pocket, placing it in Siebren’s waiting hand. He inspected it as best he could, the numbers along the side highlighting in a pale golden color. 

“Sounds simple enough.” He responded. “It will be nice to have my old work back. Could improve that gauntlet I gave you. Make a better one for Akande, even.”

They made their way up a flight of stairs, and Siebren recognized the path toward the databases. Mauga made a comment complaining about the sterility of the place when they were broken from their concentration by the sound of an aircraft outside the building. A very large aircraft. From the sounds of it, it was landing on the same balcony they had come from, causing Moira hesitate in her steps.

“That could be something to worry about,” Moira said, her hands twitching. The lights on her new gauntlet flicked on with a careful movement. “Let’s back up and take care of this. We can get the files later.”

At that, Mauga seemed much more excited. He readied his shields, and they followed their tracks back to the main doors, where they were met with a scene of several Overwatch agents scuffling with their soldiers. Baptiste breathed a sigh of relief but the sound was drowned out by Moira’s laughter, her gaze meeting the Overwatch agents slipping inside the building one by one. Reinhardt had lead the group, it seemed, standing between Moira and the Overwatch agents: Angela, McCree, Genji, and Brigitte. 

“Angela,” She said, her voice lowering a tone, amused, “It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it? How has our favorite little guardian angel been?”

“Moira.” Angela responded, and her normally gentle face turned into an expression of disgust. “Of course.”

Upon hearing the interaction, Jesse McCree and Genji looked up, the former kicking a Talon grunt to the ground. They locked eyes with Moira for just a moment, betrayal flickering over Jesse’s face. Genji tilted his head, hand on his sword.

“It seems you’ve brought quite the party, here. Reinhardt, what nice, new armor.” Moira said, folding her hands in front of herself. Reinhardt, behind his helmet, scowled deeply, hands gripping his hammer. Brigitte readied her shield beside him. With no response, Moira rolled her eyes. 

Across the way, Angela shared a look with Baptiste, who motioned toward Siebren’s floating form. She nodded once at him.

And then Reinhardt swung his hammer at Moira, and everything fell into a wave of battle, guns firing and people yelling.

  


Siebren knew all that was required of him when they faced armed enemies. Make way for his team, and then fall back so they could take care of the rest. Now, he’d never encountered such heavy opposition as this - and why was it Overwatch that was resisting them? His mind was screaming at him that it was wrong, that he wasn’t supposed to be there. 

Or at least, on the side he was on. Why did he feel like that?

He'd been separated from Moira as Baptiste dove between the two of them, pushed back against a wall with nowhere to go and a man in a suit of armor standing in front of him. Mauga had his guns trained on the larger man, his laughter audible over the sound of the mechanisms.

The visor tinted his vision, made it so much more difficult to render proper forms and shapes in his mind. But the man in the suit of armor crouched near him, his shield held up to defend them from incoming fire from Mauga's guns, and suddenly --

He was with a strong man, a hand on his waist and the other held out and clasped in his as they swayed together, a slow song playing in the background, the feeling of humming along to a soft tune. The man fixed his gaze on Siebren and he looked so full of love and adoration, his mouth opened and he spoke softly, tucking his face beside Siebren's ear as he whispered loving words to him.

And then something clicked in his mind and he felt himself speak before he realised his lips were moving.

“Reinhardt?” He asked, fumbling with the latch on the side of his helmet, trying to find the release. His fingers kept slipping on it, four or five times he attempted before it finally slid open, revealing his face to the open air.

“Siebren,” Reinhardt breathed, and even though his helmet was fully on, Siebren could see in just his body language how relieved he was. But Mauga was coming up behind Reinhardt and his barrier was beginning to crack at the edges. Just before it broke, Reinhardt dove closer to Siebren, pulling him into his arms, shielding him with his entire body.

He wanted to say something to Reinhardt, apologize for everything that had happened, when his head suddenly pulsed with intense pain and his vision went in and out of focus.

Moments afterward, when Reinhardt moved to lift him from the ground, the larger man was thrown back by a pulse of gravitic power, slamming backward. He watched, helpless, as Siebren stood and the visor slipped back over his face, and suddenly his body language was hostile. Reinhardt’s movement was halted by Mauga, who slammed into his back, heavy armor crunching against his.

The breath knocked out of him, Reinhardt felt himself falter. Between the rest of the fighting going on, he was sure he was barely noticed, but --

then Angela’s form flew overhead, her staff lit up yellow, and a nanobio beam aimed directly at him. It surged through his armor, his muscles feeling relief and giving him a chance to turn himself around, raising his fist to slam a punch against Mauga’s face. The man laughed - actually, wholeheartedly _ laughed _\- as blood poured from his nose, and he slammed himself back into Reinhardt, grappling him. 

Reinhardt shoved back, sweat beading on his neck. He growled low in his throat, and shoved Mauga as hard as he could, activating his armor’s thrusters so he could push the man back. Mauga threw his head forward, knocking his forehead against Reinhardt’s helmet, and Reinhardt felt the reverberation through his entire head.

Caught up in the fight, he barely recognized when his feet left the ground until he had no traction to use.

And then he heard Moira’s voice.

“Just like we practiced, Sigma.”

Mauga let go of him, 

and when he looked over to see Siebren, the man was floating upward, higher and higher, one hand raised to pull everyone around him up. Moira stood below him, watching everything unfold with a sinister grin.

“Siebren!” Reinhardt yelled, desperate. He heard Angela and Baptiste yelling as well, their focus wholly on Siebren.

It didn’t seem to get through to him. Hyperspheres twirled around his other hand, rotating around each other, over and over…

  


In Siebren’s limited vision, he saw targets. Lights curling around each other, directing him to aim his power at certain locations, ignoring the exact dimensions or features of those around him - those were inconsequential details. Moira beside him smiled, a hand curling in demonstration. 

But then something broke through. His vision blurred over. He shut his eyes, turning his head away, his hand still held upward to suspend everything around him up in the air.

When he opened them again, he saw his friends, his dearest friends, held up in the air by his power. Reinhardt in particular stood out, his massive form in all the heavy armor gleaming in the overhead lights. He felt his head pound, his vision blurring again. And he hesitated. He knew what Moira wanted him to do - he was aware of things, now, just for a moment. 

But a moment was all he needed.

His Hyperspheres twirled in his hand. Moira looked up at him, raising her brow at his hesitation.

He released gravity much slower than she wanted him to, but before she could react he swung his opposite hand outward, throwing the spheres at her. They collided with her side, pulling her toward them, knocking the wind out of her.

“No!” She yelled, curling her gloved hand into a fist, bringing it downward. Siebren fell from where he was floating, slamming into the ground and letting out a yelp of pain. His helmet cracked. The armor Talon had put him in seemed to cushion some of the blow, but he was left twitching in pain as Moira stepped toward him, her hand curling, squeezing into a fist. He’d never fully understood how she was able to drain someone’s very energy - it seemed entirely improbable, unscientific, against the laws of nature - but the feeling of it aimed at him was very real and very exhausting. His chest heaved as he struggled to take in any amount of air possible. 

Stopping her advance was Angela, who swept down with her Valkyrie suit’s wings extended, slowing her fall. She whipped her staff in front of Moira, who scowled and backed up a step - 

into the bulk of Reinhardt, who put a hand on her shoulder and gripped as tightly as he could.

It would have been more intimidating had she not been able to fade into nothing, leaving Reinhardt’s grip empty and Angela staring at noone in particular. A beat passed. Mauga and the other Talon agents were beginning to back away as well, having lost their de facto leader and support. Thankfully, Baptiste managed to break away from them, bolting over to where the other Overwatch agents stood. The sound of air vehicles surrounded the building, lights flashing inside the large windows near the entryway. Reinhardt left his place and rushed for Siebren, kneeling down beside him, hands hovering over his body in fear, watching for any sign of movement.

Angela rushed forward to Baptiste, who lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug. When they let go of each other, muttering something to each other ( and Angela taking a second to wipe a tear from her cheek ), they turned their attention toward Reinhardt and Siebren. With the anxiety any doctor would have staring down at their bruised and battered patient, they crept over to inspect Siebren.

Siebren’s hand lifted, falling weakly onto Reinhardt’s heavily armored palm. Reinhardt exhaled a sob, closing his hand around Siebren’s, wary of hurting him. He removed his helmet with his other hand, dropping it onto the ground, clearing his line of sight to examine his partner closer. Siebren’s mask had cracked and it was so much like the first time Overwatch found him, glass digging into the side of his face, his vision dizzying.

“I was so worried,” Reinhardt said, his voice breaking. Outside, he could hear law enforcement apprehending the remaining Talon soldiers. By the sound of it, Mauga had managed to get away, but was being pursued. Perhaps they’d follow up on that later. Behind them, he heard Baptiste warning him not to pick Siebren up. For now, Reinhardt’s concern was on the blood on Siebren, on his lips and from his nose, the glass in his skin.

Brigitte made her way toward Reinhardt, kneeling down beside him. She took his helmet from the ground and held it in her hands, and in the distance McCree and Genji were helping some officials subdue the remaining Talon soldiers, explaining the situation before they, too, were apprehended. 

Siebren closed his eyes, relief flooding through his body, the light of Angela's staff burning his eyes, even without directly staring at it. Before he succumbed to exhaustion, Baptiste’s voice said something about getting him home being of utmost importance, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

  
  
  


Reinhardt sat in the common room in Gibraltar, Lena in the chair beside his. On the couch, Torbjorn sat with Brigitte, mumbling something about how worried he was over her going to Lucheng without him. In front of Reinhardt, a news report was telling of their escapade, and worry crept into his veins that the public would now know about Overwatch, about Siebren, and what their reaction might be.

"Reports from law enforcement say that Talon was attempting to hack into Lucheng Interstellar to find work from the - assumed - late Doctor Siebren de Kuiper. Upon investigation, it has been revealed that the esteemed astrophysicist was being held against his will in a Talon operated facility, and he attributes his rescue to the hands of the still-outlawed Overwatch. After the dispute, international leaders have begun discussing ending the PETRAS act as the heroes’ work subdued more than six Talon associates…"

The news report faded into a quieter tone as Lena turned it down, turning her head to look at Reinhardt.

“So, Winston and the doc have been gone an awful long time,” She said, propping her feet up on the table in front of her. “You think they’re gonna make any progress?”

“I hope so.” He said, bringing his hand in front of his face to stroke his beard. The past week had been a scramble between coming home and helping Siebren readjust to daily life, Jack trying to figure out where to relocate the entire facility, and Winston readying himself to bring the PETRAS act into court. “Maybe people will take us a bit more serious, now, seeing what we did.”

“Either that, or they’re going to think we’re still a danger to society,” Torbjorn said, earning him a glare from Reinhardt’s direction. 

In the quiet, the newscaster on screen was audible once again. 

“...act into courts next week, and Doctor De Kuiper has confirmed that he will make a statement in support of Overwatch.” Two photos of Siebren were shown on screen at that moment - one from his days on the space stations and a more recent one, his hair still only a short fuzz atop his head and the skin under his eyes looking incredibly dark.

“Not the most flattering look for me, I’ll admit.” Came Siebren’s voice from behind the chairs of the common area, and Reinhardt immediately turned, his eyes wide. 

“You’re back!” Reinhardt said, his mouth widening into a smile. Siebren floated himself over to where he was seated, lifting himself onto the armrest of the chair, hovering above it as he crossed his legs at the ankles.

“Winston and I just came back. I heard you all in here, so…” He leaned over, pressing his lips against Reinhardt’s cheek. The larger man leaned into it. “I suppose the cat’s out of the bag, then, that I’m going to be helping Winston out in court.”

"Are you sure you're going to be able to manage?" Reinhardt said, pulling Siebren's hand into his. “You’re still…” 

"I think so. My memory isn’t suffering too badly - besides, how difficult do you really think it will be?” Siebren smiled at him, reaching with his free hand to thread his fingers into Reinhardt's hair. "I trust that you'll at least be there for some moral support, no?"

Lena made a soft cooing noise, tilting her head as she watched the two of them. Reinhardt noticed, his cheeks flushing slightly, but he didn't move from his place. If anything, he tightened his grip on Siebren's hand sightly. 

"Of course I will, _ liebe _. You know I will be there for you no matter what!"

"Do you actually… think it will work?" Brigitte piped in. "Like, will Overwatch actually be allowed to come back in full force?"

"Maybe not full force." Siebren said. "Winston isn't sure just how much trust will be given to Overwatch just yet. But!"

He pulled his hands from Reinhardt, looking around the room as he clasped his hands together.

"I don't know if he wants me to tell all of you this, but…" Siebren leaned down as though he was telling a secret. "We get to stay here in Gibraltar. If he doesn't manage to secure any other Watchpoints or bases, we do know we have the funding to up the security here. So we're safe."

“Safe?” Lena repeated, her eyes widening. “You mean, like, Talon won’t be breaking down any doors or windows and we might be able to… Work again?”

Siebren nodded. Lena made a delighted noise.

“We still have to take the act to the courts, see if we can help with this crisis before it gets worse, but...” He looked down at Reinhardt from his place floating above him, just for a moment, admiring the delight on his face. “We _ have _been told that our acts against Talon at Lucheng won’t be held against us.”

“That’s such a relief,” Reinhardt breathed, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. “And maybe after all of this is done, I can _ actually _retire.”

“Retire?” Brigitte laughed. “Oh come on, Reinhardt. You were all about coming back to Overwatch to help when they needed you.”

“Well, _ Kleiner _,” he said, aiming a raised brow in her direction, “After getting attacked by a terrorist organization, losing my partner, and then watching him get terribly injured, I think this old dog is ready to lie down for a while. Besides, you’ve more than proven yourself worthy of being a shield for justice in my stead.”

“After everything that’s happened,” Siebren said, sliding his arm over Reinhardt’s shoulders as the larger man smiled at Brigitte, pride in his eyes, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  
  
  


When the day finally came for Overwatch to dispute being ended, the turnout was …

Much larger than anticipated. Of course, perhaps they should have predicted that an old peacekeeping organization rising back in the midst of a second war would draw attention ( and hope ) to the people around the world. They met in Switzerland, the neutral ground and original home of Overwatch itself. All the recalled agents showed up - minus Ana and Jack, having stayed behind so as not to cause too much of a ruckus. 

And each agent spoke for themselves on why Overwatch needed to be brought back. It was an event broadcast worldwide, and people hung off every word as Jesse recounted his tale of redemption, Winston of his hope for humanity and the wonders of the world, Angela and her newfound desire to see Overwatch come back just to help a few more people out in the world -

and of course, Siebren’s story. 

It was a shock for so many that he was still alive, and the horrors of his stay with Talon worked dread into peoples’ hearts. Enough so that murmurs began to spread of ‘what could they do next? Who would they come for?’. 

It terrified people. Made them afraid.

By the time everything had been wrapped up for the day, the people had made a decision, overwhelmingly positive about the comeback of Overwatch. The vocal minority, of course, tried to sway the decision process with claims of Blackwatch’s return ( which had been addressed ) and the rifts that had previously destroyed Overwatch from the inside out. Rumors rose and were killed of heroes betraying each other, or of plots to steal away power from the upper ranks. 

To combat this, Winston had declared that all of Overwatch’s decision making would be made public - in the rare exceptions of a quick-needed ploy to get an upper hand on the Crisis - and they would extend their arms to any and all people who wanted to join, or who needed help themselves. Plans were made to track down Talon’s movements, as well as pinpoint where new threats of rogue Omnium activity were beginning. 

Within the next few weeks, Overwatch had opened up plans to build three Watchpoints - one in the United States, one in Switzerland and one in Korea. Hana Song and her MEKA companions had publicly displayed their trust in Overwatch, gaining steadfast support. Other groups quickly began to do the same, creating a spiderweb of hope across the world as heroes rose up. 

And, well - the world could _ always _use more heroes.

  
  


After Switzerland, Siebren took Reinhardt to the Netherlands to visit his daughter - properly, this time. They arrived just as winter began to roll around, the air turning chill and the skies turning grey. Milou welcomed them into her home with a hug and a kiss on both of their cheeks. Finally, then, he met her husband - a tall, red-haired man by the name of Eliot - and found that he genuinely liked him. 

And then he met his grandchildren. 

Three of them! The eldest was a young lady named Julia, who looked very much like her father. The middle was a little girl named Nora, who Reinhardt quickly lifted into his arms to coo at. And then there was Milou’s youngest son, a timid, red haired boy of eight who shared both a love of books and a name with his grandfather.

“She was adamant about having a boy,” Milou’s husband had explained, “Because she wanted to name him after you.” 

Siebren’s heart melted at the sentiment, and during his weeklong stay with Milou, he spent quite a lot of his time getting to know his new family. He also took a day to show Reinhardt around The Hague, and Siebren couldn’t have been happier to watch the first few flakes of snow fall while in a busy city square with him.

  


The crisis raged on. They returned to Gibraltar and heard news of Omnics breaking past Russian forces. One Aleksandra Zaryanova came to Overwatch with a request for help, and they answered her call and sent forces of their own. 

Traces of Talon activity were found and the footprints they left behind were carefully inspected. Siebren was determined to wrench his invention away from Moira once more, even if he was certain she would run out of fuel for it eventually - the woman would go to great lengths to harness power for herself, and who’s to say she wouldn’t find another scientist to recreate his mistake?

( Months later, they found his creation, abandoned and half-destroyed. They still fought tooth and nail to find Moira, even if most trails were dead ends. )

  
  


"When's the next time you're coming to visit, anyway?" Milou asked, prompting Siebren to look over at his computer screen, raising a brow at her through the camera. He thought for a moment, tapping his pen against his chin.

"I'm not sure. I'll ask Reinhardt when he comes around if he'd like to make a trip sometime soon."

Milou laughed.

"It's so sweet, you always light up when you say his name. You love him so much, I can tell."

"I do," he said, sweetly. As always, he ended up with a lopsided smile on his face.

"You should be saying that to him, not to me, Pa." Milou tilted her head, a mischievous look in her eyes, and Siebren recognized it immediately. He stepped over in front of his computer screen, crossing his arms to stare at her.

"Milou," he started, "I am nearly sixty-four years old, I'm a bit old to be thinking of that."

"A bit old to be thinking of what?" Came Reinhardt's voice as the large man crept in through the doorway. Siebren jumped, putting a hand over his chest.

"Hello, Reinhardt!" Milou shouted, followed quickly with a casual, "I was just telling Pa that he needs to get working on marr-"

Siebren made a series of noises, waving his hands in front of the screen. 

"What?" Reinhardt laughed, looking between Milou on-screen and Siebren fumbling over his words. 

“It’s - nothing, Reinhardt.” Siebren said, sending a stern look Milou’s way. She stuck her tongue out, playful. He did the same in return, prompting another laugh from Reinhardt.

“Okay, I’m going to go put the kids to bed, you know how it is.” Milou said. “I love you, Pa! And you too, Reinhardt.”

“I love you, too, Milou -_ now don’t bring this up again, alright?” _He spoke in Dutch to her, and Reinhardt watched her nod a few times before Siebren said, “And be safe.”

The screen went dark after a few moments, and Siebren floated himself into a sitting position, rubbing his temple with his hand.

“What was that all about, hm?” Reinhardt asked, standing himself close enough to pull Siebren against his chest. 

“She’s very adamant on wanting me to -” Siebren paused. “She wants me to marry you.”

Reinhardt’s cheeks flushed. He raised a brow.

“And? That’s it? That’s all you’re nervous about?”

“It’s more than that.” Siebren said, turning himself slightly, his head resting on Reinhardt’s shoulder. “I’ve never brought it up because I don’t want to go through the process again. Once was enough, you know?”

“Hmm.” Reinhardt hummed, nodding, and Siebren could feel the movement. “That’s fine. I didn’t expect it.”

“You didn’t?” Siebren asked, brows knitting together. Reinhardt shook his head.

“No, and not because of you.” He tucked his chin against Siebren’s face. Felt him nudge that little bit closer and closed his eyes. “After I joined Overwatch, I realized I wouldn’t get the opportunity, not with being on the front lines all the time. So I never got my hopes up.”

“I suppose, then, we’re both happy,” Siebren smiled, inching up to press a kiss to Reinhardt’s lips. “...simply to be with each other, ja?”

Reinhardt’s smile against his lips told him his answer.

  


The Russian Omniums were put to rest, and Korea’s Gwishin problem had nearly been eliminated by the time Reinhardt finally decided to retire. He was given a ceremony that he hadn’t been given before, and promised Overwatch that yes, he _really was_ retiring this time. 

Talon was still out there. But Ana had done a good job of tracking the Reaper, and there was hope that maybe the world could see peace for some time.

Siebren got a formal retirement despite not being a full fledged agent. His daughter brought the kids to see, and they were delighted to meet some of the world’s heroes in person. Little Nora took a shining to Brigitte, who treated her like a sister of her own.

Reinhardt suggested moving somewhere near Siebren’s family, and he jumped at the opportunity. They settled in a little home near The Hague, kept in contact with Overwatch ( went to a Christmas party that year, and Reinhardt resisted the urge to jump back into the fight after retirement ) and watched Milou’s children for her every now and then. 

Siebren didn’t get any headaches for the next several months. The first one he had scared him, but it had been revealed to be a normal headache and nothing from Moira’s meddling. He'd breathed a sigh of relief at that.

His vision started to go the following spring, and Angela and Baptiste visited to confirm that it was something to do with how Talon had taken control of his senses. It was a risky process to fix the damage done, and he was left with another set of scars near his eyes, but Siebren wouldn’t complain. 

Not when he got to see Reinhardt wake up beside him every morning.

Curled up in Reinhardt's arms in their bed, Siebren couldn't have found a better place in the universe to settle down in.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, that scene with siebren lifting up all the overwatch members? i had that written before his final release trailer and absolutely lost my mind over the fact that it was so similar.
> 
> anyway, i hope this was good! i am very tired because it's 2am!!


End file.
